It was only after she had put him to bed that she heard a sound in her room, and thought that Charlotte had wandered in to borrow something to wear, as she often did. She was taller than Alice, and narrower, but she still managed to borrow her fair share of sweaters and accessories to wear with her favorite pair of jeans.
“Charlie?” Alice said in the direction of her closet, as she got back into bed, and then jumped when she saw Johnny smiling at her. He was wearing the same blue shirt and clean pair of jeans he'd been wearing when she saw him in the hospital, and his hair was as neat and freshly trimmed as it had been the night of the prom.
“Hi, Mom,” he said, and bent over her to kiss her on the cheek, and then sat down on the end of her bed, as he often had when he wanted to talk to her.
“It's going to take me a while to get used to this,” she admitted to him. “It's something of a miracle, isn't it?”
“Yes, it is.” He nodded, still smiling at her.
“What did you do today?” she asked, casually, sinking back against her pillows, and savoring the sight of him. He looked so good, so young and strong, so confident, even more than he had before. He used to get a little worried frown sometimes, and now he just looked happy all the time. And then she realized how odd it sounded to ask him what he'd done. It was as though he had never left, and she expected him to tell her about work, or school.
“I went to see Becky today. She looked so sad.” His eyes grew more serious as he said the words. He had followed her for hours, and watched her with the kids and talking to her mom.
“She and her mom came by for a while.”
“I know, Mom. I was here.”
“You were?”
He nodded then, and seemed to be thinking about something else. “Bobby is really scared about you,” he explained to her, but she already knew. Bobby didn't need words to tell her how he felt, and the way he had stayed with her all day had told her everything she needed to know. Bobby was terrified she'd die too.
“I think he was afraid I wouldn't come back from the hospital. Like you,” she said diplomatically.
“I know, Mom,” Johnny said quietly. “And Charlie is upset about Dad.” Alice nodded, there was nothing she could say to that. She was worried about him too. His drinking had gotten markedly worse ever since Johnny had died. All she could do was hope that he'd lighten up on his drinking again. But in recent weeks it had only gotten worse. He never got so drunk he couldn't go to work the next day. And he never drank until he got home. But once he began, he drank steadily all night, and by the time he came to bed, he was blind and numb. It was no way to live. And it affected all of them, as she knew. But he wouldn't let her talk to him, and she couldn't see anymore how it could change. She never told anyone, and she had gotten good at explaining it away, and making excuses for him, particularly to the kids. But it was no secret to anyone in the house what was happening to him, or why. First, he had nearly drowned his younger son, in an accident that left him mute, and then he had lost his favorite son. It was more than he could tolerate, or bear to think about. And when he drank, he didn't have to feel, or think anything at all. It was the perfect escape for him.
“What's going to happen now?” Alice looked at her son curiously. She had been wondering about it all day, still unsure if what she had seen of him was real or a dream. It was pretty remarkable, and would have been impossible to explain to anyone. And she would never have tried. “How does this work? Are you going to be around all the time, or just kind of come and go?” The oddest thing was that they were speaking normally and she wondered if anyone would hear them if they wandered by. They were going to have to be careful about that, or people were going to think she was crazy, talking to herself, since they couldn't see him.
“I guess I just kind of come in and out, while I do my work. I want to spend some time with Becky too.” There was something sad in his eyes this time as he spoke to her. It had touched him when he saw how subdued Becky was that day. It brought home to him how many people had been affected when he left, but it was why he had come home again. There were too many loose ends, too much left undone. And he knew he had a lot to do now in a short time.
He got up off her bed then, and walked to the door of her room, and then stood there smiling at her.
“It feels good to be home, Mom.” Even if it was only for a little while. It felt good to both of them.
“It's wonderful to have you home, sweetheart. I've missed you so much.” Her words didn't begin to express all she felt.
“Yeah,” he said softly, “me too. I'm going to go downstairs now to see Dad.”
“Can he see you too?” She looked surprised by what he said. She didn't think Jim could see him too. And Johnny laughed at her.
“Of course not, Mom. Are you kidding? He'd freak out.”
“Yes, I think he would,” she laughed with him.
“I just want to make sure he's okay. And there's some stuff I want to look for in my room. What happened to my varsity jacket? You didn't give it away, did you?”
“Of course not. I let Bobby try it on. I was saving it for him. I told him he could have it one day, and his eyes lit up. He's got a lot of growing to do until then.” They exchanged a smile.
“Charlie might like to wear it in the meantime,” he said generously. He had worn it constantly, he'd been so proud of it.
“I don't think Dad thinks anyone should wear it but you. It's in your closet. Everything is still there.” She hadn't moved or changed or given away anything. With all his trophies and pennants and photographs and awards, the room was a shrine to him. She seldom went in anymore, although she had in the first few weeks, she just liked knowing it was there, like a part of him.
“Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning, Mom.” It was just the way it had been only a few months before, when he used to come and say good night to her, leave to call Becky, and then go to his room.
“Good night, sweetheart.” She sat there quietly, thinking of him, and a few minutes later Charlotte strolled in. Her hair was wet, she had just put gel in it, and she looked at her mother with a quizzical air.
“Who were you talking to a minute ago? Was Dad up here?” They both knew Bobby was sound asleep. She had heard her mom saying something as she walked down the hall to her room, and she couldn't imagine who she was talking to.
“I was on the phone,” Alice said without batting an eye. “Dad's still downstairs. He probably fell asleep.”
“What else is new?” Charlie said with a disapproving air. “Peggy Dougal's dad used to be the same way … and he went to AA.”
“Peggy Dougal's dad wound up in jail for drunk driving,” Alice said defensively, “and he lost his job. He had to go to AA, the court sent him there. That's not the same thing.” She had suggested it to Jim several times since the accident years before, and he always brushed her off or barked at her. He saw no need to go to AA, and always said he just liked to enjoy a few beers. And Alice knew she couldn't push him into it unless he was ready to go. It was up to him. And nothing she could say to him would make him see what everyone else did.
“Maybe not the same as Peggy's dad, but have you ever tried talking to Dad at night, Mom? He can't even understand what you say.” And more often than not, he slurred his words.
“I know, baby.” Alice didn't know what to say to her. It was the first time Charlotte had implied that her father was a drunk. And Alice didn't have the heart to tell her she was wrong. She had always been honest with her, even now. And whether or not he needed AA, he needed to forgive himself for the accident first, and accept the fact that he had lost his son. But that didn't seem to be happening. He seemed to be drifting further and further away from all of them. The only child he had ever related to was gone, and the other two didn't seem to exist for him. Sometimes Alice wondered if he even knew they were there. He never talked to them, or acknowledged them. And yet, he had loved talking to Johnny for hours, about sports and games and scores. He had no one to talk to now, not even her. “It's late, sweetheart, you should get to bed. I'll go wake Dad in a while and bring him upstairs.”